


When the Rain Clears, All I See Is You

by Tamasha



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Developing Relationship, Doctor Who References, Falling In Love, Father Figures, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Gay, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Kissing, Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Rain, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 11:34:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14953914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamasha/pseuds/Tamasha
Summary: Sometimes Arthur is a prat, and sometimes Merlin is an idiot, but sometimes, they get it right.





	When the Rain Clears, All I See Is You

**Author's Note:**

> written by Tamara

It was a rainy day, Arthur remembers that. Merlin didn't answer his phone all day so Arthur had to get the answer from a crying Hunith rather than his best friend’s mouth. Somehow, that made him worry even more. Honestly, Arthur didn't know which was worse: having your husband leave you or your father. See, Arthur had an awful relationship with his own father, and his mother died when he was born, so he couldn’t know what it was like to lose something he never had. But he felt it then, when he heard Balinor had left them, he felt like a part of him had broke too. Not only had he liked Balinor - he was soft spoken, kind, and not at all like Arthur’s own father - but worse than that was that Arthur loved them all like his own family. He never wanted them to feel any pain. And he knew that was exactly what Merlin and Hunith were feeling.

Admittedly, Arthur didn't rush over to them right after he received the news. He had wanted to, badly, but it just didn't feel right. He knew there would be tears and feelings and things said that Arthur just wasn't equipped to deal with. He loved them both dearly, but he wasn't the sentimental type. He'd probably just mutter awkwardly to Hunith and make fun of Merlin's stupid dragon doll collection, to which Merlin would undoubtedly correct to ‘figurines’, and Arthur would just laugh at him and call him an idiot. Because that was Arthur; he was absolute rubbish at making someone feel better. And he loved that idiot, but he couldn't face him. Not yet.

It was a week later, when Merlin hadn’t shown up to game night at Gwaine’s, that Arthur started to really worry. Merlin was  _ always  _ at game night. In fact, he was the one who had started it two years ago, volunteering Gwaine’s flat for a weekly Friday game night where they would all eat crisps and drink wine as they played. Merlin was always bringing them together like that. Now that they were all off with their own lives and separate jobs, they hadn't kept in touch very well over the past years. Despite this, Merlin would always be able to rally them together and remind them why they were such good friends in college.

Merlin had always brought people together. Even when they were young. He was cheesy and sappy and loved to show affection in any way he could and did it as much as anyone would let him. He was the exact opposite of Arthur in that way. So that's why it was so horrible for Arthur to leave him for a week to wallow alone after he  _ knew _ what was wrong. He knew, and still Arthur had left his best friend alone.

Arthur was shit.

It was raining that night too, when Arthur went to Merlin’s flat. Those two nights were the only two nights it had rained that week. Hunith answered the door, bags under her eyes and hair mussed, wearing her fluffy pink robe. She gave Arthur a weak smile and then wrapped him in a warm hug, smelling of roses and butter. She thanked him quietly for coming and the sound of it broke Arthur’s heart. It was more of plea for Arthur to stay rather than a show of true gratitude. He really should have come sooner.

She sent him to Merlin’s room straight off, making Arthur’s guilt rise in his chest and squeeze at his throat. Merlin needed him now, more than ever, and Arthur was probably too much of a prat to set his own feelings aside and just  _ be _ there for someone. And it shouldn't be like this. Talking to Merlin had always been easy; now though, it felt harder than ever.

Arthur opened the door slowly, after knocking, and peeked in. “Merlin?” he called, into the darkened room. The shades were drawn and there was only a faint slit of light falling across the far wall. The sun was hidden by clouds and rain, but it still crept through, slowly and surely, to Merlin’s room.

Arthur pushed the door further, moving a pile of clothes to the side with his feet - Merlin was such a mess! Faintly, Arthur heard the sound of The Fleet Foxes playing through Merlin’s phone which made him  _ smile softly as he recognized the song. _

_ “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song?” Arthur had asked incredulously. _

_ Merlin scoffed. “You make it sound so lame, Arthur; it's a good song.” _

_ “It's not,” Arthur had argued, pushing his friend off the stone wall they were perched on. _

_ It was after graduation and they were both feeling a little giddy with excitement. Merlin had never looked so radiant as he did that day holding his degree in zoology. His face was stuck in a smile that absolutely split his face in half the whole day. He looked a bit mad in all the pictures, but still handsome. His smiles suited him well. _

_ “It makes me think of moving on and growing up. I don’t know. It's too deep for your shallow mind to understand.” Merlin took off his graduation cap and fiddled with the tassel as he avoided Arthur's gaze. “I don’t know…” he trailed off. _

_ “You're such a girl,” Arthur commented, jumping of the wall to lightly smack the back of Merlin's head. _

He should have told Merlin that he did, in fact, like the song and wanted to understand what exactly it meant to Merlin. But he didn’t. Because he was a prat, and Merlin had always been much better with deeper feelings, things that Arthur never let himself go near.

But now, standing in Merlin’s room, listening to the slow steadiness of his breathing while the song played, Arthur longed to go back to that day and ask Merlin. Show him he could think deeply too if only he was given the chance. The warm sun on his face, Merlin happy and looking up at him so expectantly, Arthur could have given him anything. Now. What could Arthur give him? Looking back, Arthur could have done a lot of things differently. Unfortunately, he let his fear of vulnerability take control of his actions.

Merlin shifted in his bed, hugging his old teddy bear, Amis. The song ended and a Bon Iver song came on, causing Merlin to stir again at the start of a new song. He blinked rapidly, then sat up, noticing Arthur for the first time. “Oh,” he said hoarsely. “Did Mum let you in?”

Arthur nodded, at a loss for words. How could he even begin to be enough for Merlin? How would it be possible to make Merlin's pain go away? Prattish, arrogant, and pretentious Arthur was not fit to make others feel better. He was good at footy, and decent at sales, but he wasn't Merlin; he wasn't in touch with his feelings.

“You okay, mate?” Merlin asked, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed while rubbing his eyes in a way that was far too adorable to be reality.

Arthur shook his head, making a decision. He sat down and hugged his friend fiercely, because that was all he could think of to do. Merlin just hugged back and they stayed like that for much too long, just clinging to each other.

 

~~~~~~

 

Merlin was 12 when he knew his father would leave one day. Balinor was sitting on the patio in front of their flat, smoking and watching the birds in the tree there. He did that often, especially on days Mum came home late from the hospital and was too tired to cook. Merlin went out to sit next to his father, crossing his ankles under the chair, hands pressed together between his thighs. He didn’t say anything, just watched his dad take long drags of his cigarette, turning the tip orange for a moment till he opened his mouth and small puffs of smoke came out. Merlin sat there for 20 minutes and watched his father, neither of them saying a word. Later, Mum called them into dinner, and Merlin rushed in to wash up, knowing that the leftovers would get cold if he didn’t hurry. His father, though, never came to dinner that night; he just sat outside smoking and watching the birds in the tree. Nothing happened after that. Good or bad. Merlin just knew one day his father would leave. Maybe go see where the birds migrated to in the winter, or find a new porch to sit and smoke from. Wherever he went, there would be trees. Merlin knew that. 

So when Balinor finally did leave, ten years later, Merlin wasn’t surprised. All it meant was that it was now Merlin's role to take care of his mother. For better or worse, Merlin would never abandon her the way his father did. Never.

When Arthur had called him that day, Merlin was busy hiding all the alcohol in the house. He didn’t want to face sympathy from anyone while trying to deal with everything else, so he ignored the calls. All of them. Gwaine, Percival, Freya, Gwen, and even Morgana. He couldn’t tell them that he was fine and not at all surprised by this finally coming about. How would they look at him then, if they knew? 

He had to focus on Mum first, then deal with the rest of the world. It was April, so he had a break from school and he was grateful to his father for at least that small blessing in timing. He had enough time off, but he didn’t take it to study for finals like he was supposed to; he used it to force his mother to eat, shower, and not drink. 

Arthur had always teased him for going back to school, but Merlin knew if he didn’t have school to keep him busy, he would lose his way. He could never go off and live his dream. He could never leave his mother. Especially not now. He’d become a doctor and would stay in England because that’s what he needed to do and he was happy to do it. He was.

A week went by, and nothing changed with Hunith. Merlin stayed with her and kept his contact to the outer world to a minimum. But then bloody Arthur showed up. Merlin almost expected it sooner. He wanted to be upset at him for coming over unannounced and invading their privacy, but he couldn’t. That was actually quite far down on the list of things he was feeling when he saw his best friend’s face. First was happiness, and soon following was fear, but as they hugged, standing in the middle of his room with soft music playing, Merlin felt sorrow sweep over him. He clung tighter to his friend and let himself finally feel the dejection he felt as a scared twelve-year-old boy, not knowing how to deal with the growing distance of his father who was right there. Only Arthur could bring about feelings in Merlin he didn’t previously know he had. Only bloody Arthur.

After a moment Merlin was crying into the crook of Arthur's neck and his friend squeezed him tighter. It was almost too tight for Merlin to breathe, but he wouldn’t pull away, not for anything in the world. Arthur rubbed his back and hushed him softly. It was so unlike Arthur that Merlin wanted to cry again for a whole new set of reasons he didn’t quite understand. He didn’t want to make Arthur feel bad for him. He was fine. He had known this was coming and he had to be strong for Mum. He did. But as Arthur held him, Merlin didn’t believe any of that anymore. All he wanted was the warmth and smell and feel of Arthur. He wanted his friend close. He wanted…

It had to have been Merlin that started the kiss. He was the one that was out and proud. He was the one who had harbored feeling for his friend since the first day they met in Uni. He was the one vulnerable and crying. It had to have been Merlin that started it. But Arthur certainly kissed back. It was only for a second before he was pulling away in confusion, but Merlin could tell that he had shown  _ some _ interest.

“Merlin,” Arthur said, slightly breathless. “What are you doing?” he whispered.

Merlin just chuckled, patted Arthur’s chest, and stepped away. “Nothing, prat. That was an accident.”

Inside, Merlin was shouting and fighting the urge to go back to Arthur’s arms where everything felt safe and right. Outside, Merlin just wiped his eyes and started picking up his dirty clothes.

“Hey… um, Merls,” Arthur began, but Merlin cut him off with a wave of his hand.

“Just don’t say anything,” Merlin insisted, tossing a dirty shirt to his friend. “I think that’s yours, actually.”

Arthur laughed the way he did when he was uncomfortable, bunching the shirt in his fists. “This isn’t mine, it’s way too small!”

The shirt was probably Gwaine’s, since it was a footy jersey; Merlin hated footy and only had three friends who didn’t. The shirt certainly wasn’t Percival’s; that man was a giant. “Well it’s not mine, Arthur. I don’t like football.”

“Oh shut up, you nerd,” Arthur retorted as he tossed the jersey over Merlin's head. And just like that everything was back to normal and Merlin felt better.

Arthur stayed for dinner that night, which made Mum perk up enough so that she didn’t even ask Merlin for a glass of wine with her meal. They watched Doctor Who and ate biscuits after Arthur made them tea. The night was peaceful and calm. Just the way things tend to go right before a storm.

 

~~~~~~

 

The whole night Merlin was just being unfair. He kissed Arthur and then proceeded to act as if nothing had happened. Truthfully, Arthur had wanted to do the same, at first. The timing was bad, and he was too confused. But as the night wore on it became increasingly evident that Arthur couldn’t forget that kiss. He just couldn't. Now that Arthur knew that Merlin’s lips were as soft as they looked and he tasted like sweet jam, Arthur’s mind could go nowhere else. The way Merlin moved changed too. How his fingers lingered a breath too long on everything he touched, the same way they did on Arthur's skin. How he moved in gradual sweeping motions, the same way his body came up against Arthur’s own. How, when he laughed, his whole body shook, the same way it trembled in Arthur’s arms. Everything was different and Merlin was acting completely unfair. 

Because to him it never happened. To him it was an accident. To him he had made a mistake and kissed his best friend in a moment of weakness.

But to Arthur.

To Arthur it was a moment of strength.

Hunith retired early that night, leaving the two men alone on the couch with Doctor Who still playing. Martha was crying, admitting her feelings to the tenth Doctor, trying to save the world from some aliens that had taken over a school. Merlin was close to sleep, curled up on the other end of the couch, huddled under a blanket. Arthur stared at his friend rather than the telly, much preferring the sight of Merlin to the screen in front of him.

After a beat, Arthur couldn’t take it anymore. “Merlin?” Arthur croaked. “I need to ask you something.”

Merlin sat up and rubbed his eyes, reaching for the remote. “What's that, Arthur?” he asked, sounding so much younger than he was.

His jet black hair stuck out on ends in odd directions. His cheek was red from the couch pillow and had a light pattern pressed on his face. Arthur chuckled softly, and moved closer to his friend. With the telly off, the sounds from the street whirred around them. Without thinking, Arthur reached out and ran his fingers through Merlin’s rumpled hair. 

Their eyes met and Arthur's stomach went into a free fall. His mouth went dry and suddenly he forgot how to speak. Merlin bit his lip, the way he always does when he is nervous, and it was all Arthur could do to not reach out and pull his lip free, just to feel it again. Arthur longed…

But he remembered himself and blinked back to reality.

“Merlin,” he said softly, “how are you doing, really? I mean with everything. You're dad left a week ago, and you haven't said a thing about it. Talk to me.”

It wasn't exactly a fair thing to ask of Merlin, since Arthur was the absolute worst at discussing his own difficult times with Merlin. When Arthur had gotten kicked out of his house three years ago and had to stay with Merlin for two weeks, he had told his friend that it was mutual and never spoke of it again. Arthur could never imagine telling Merlin about how it made him feel small and vulnerable, or how he was scared to death his father would hit him again. He could never tell Merlin that. So how could he ask Merlin to talk now when silence was more befitting?

Merlin shrugged in response and glanced at the blank screen before he spoke. “There isn't much to say. He left and now I need to take care of Mum. I don’t want to leave her alone. She doesn't deserve that, and she certainly doesn't deserve this. Honestly, I'm not surprised, I'm just angry. But it's the same anger I've had ever since I was little and understood all that was wrong between them.”

Arthur nodded. He knew of Hunith's drinking problem and of Balinor’s neglect. He knew that though he was a nice man, Balinor never was equipped to deal with his wife's addiction. He was like Arthur, weak and cowardly in the face of anything challenging.

Merlin moved on the couch and came to rest right next to Arthur, and without a word he put his head on Arthur's shoulder, cuddling in close. Any other day, Arthur would protest or toss Merlin across the couch and tickle him for being too sentimental. But tonight it felt so right to have Merlin tucked in there, by his side. It was so right to feel the warmth of Merlin and his pointy bones against Arthur. It was so right to reach over and pull Merlin in closer, rubbing his hand up and down Merlin’s arm. 

Arthur felt a surge of protectiveness to keep Merlin safe. He wanted to take all the hurt that clouded Merlin’s mind and throw it out with the trash. It didn't belong here. But Merlin did. Merlin belonged right next to Arthur, under his arm, close enough that Arthur could keep him from the rest of the world that might hurt him. Keep him close and his. Arthur felt possessive. Merlin was his and his alone and he could never let that feeling go.

So Arthur held him tight.

Soon they were both lying down and drifting off to sleep. Arthur hadn't said anything in response to Merlin, he realized, but somehow this was enough. Words could never describe what he was feeling, and somehow he knew that Merlin knew as well. This was the quiet moment Arthur realized he was in love.

 

~~~~~~

 

Merlin woke a few hours later, sore and cramped on the couch with Arthur half on top of him. His instinct was to push Arthur away and take over the couch so he could go back to sleep in peace without Arthur’s impossibly warm body pressed to his side making him sweat. Merlin stretched and pushed the blanket to his feet. The clock told him it was 2 am, but Merlin felt as if years had passed on this couch.

The rain had stopped and the quietness of the early morning hours filled the room. Arthur moved, pulling Merlin closer. It was too close. Merlin had made a mistake kissing Arthur, and maybe even the cuddling was a mistake, but how could it be? 

Each time Arthur had responded as if he wanted it too. He hadn't pushed Merlin away like he normally did. He was kind and soft and a million other things anyone else in the world would never call Arthur. But Merlin knew better. He knew of the softness of Arthur Pendragon. He knew of his kindness and his loving side. He knew Arthur inside and out and he wanted to know him more, if possible.

Merlin nudged Arthur awake gently. “Hey, prat, you awake?”

“Am now,” Arthur muttered, eyes squeezed shut. “Five more minutes,” he whined.

Merlin laughed. “I just wanted to say thank you. For everything. You really made me feel better.”

Arthur peeled his eyes open cautiously, as if he were expecting Merlin to attack him at any moment. “I didn’t really do anything.”

“No,” Merlin agreed. “I guess you didn't. You're right. I guess I just felt better from something else. Maybe it was magic.”

Arthur shook his head and sat up on the couch, moving Merlin as he did. 

Merlin wouldn't readily admit it, but he loved it when Arthur did that. Moved him like a rag doll. Like he weighed nothing at all, and it was Arthur who knew exactly where he went.

“Seriously, Arthur, thank you,” Merlin repeated.

Arthur nodded. “Okay, Merls. Okay.”

They sat like that for a moment, silently huddled together. Then it became too much to bear, and Merlin was moving without any command of his own.

It was like it wasn't even him. Like he was watching a movie of himself and Arthur on a couch kissing. Only it was him. And he could feel the movement of Arthur's lips on his own and he wanted as much as he could take. He was desperate and hungry and…

Arthur’s hand was pushing him away. “Merlin, what… No, we can’t do this.”

Merlin sighed and sat back on the couch. “Sorry… I just thought maybe..” Merlin felt his cheeks heat and he wanted to hide under the blankets and disappear. How had he thought this would be okay? It wasn't. It never had been. That's why he spent all those years as just Arthur’s friend. And now he might lose that too. He really was an idiot.

“Merlin, I'm sorry. I just… not now, you know? Not with what happened. I want… well, no I just… I'm sorry.”

He wants? What… What does Arthur want? Just as Merlin was about to ask, Arthur reached up and stroked his face. He looked so sad and hurt as if Merlin was the one rejecting him.

“Because of my dad?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said, “You are sad and vulnerable and I can’t take advantage of that.”

“Take advantage?” Merlin echoed foolishly.

“Merlin. Stop. I…”

“But if it was another time. Another situation...  things would be different?” Merlin was grasping at straws. But this was Arthur, straws sometimes had pull and could lead to something more.

“I don’t know!” Arthur shouted desperately. “Merlin, just… I don't know.”

With that, Merlin stood up and started toward the kitchen in a huff.

Arthur stopped him with a hand on the wrist. “Please don't be mad, Merlin. Please.”

The sight of his best friend begging him like that made Merlin’s knees go weak. He wanted so badly to figure this out, but getting Arthur to admit anything was worse than pulling teeth.

“I'm not mad,” Merlin said softly, trying to wrestle away any lingering anger. “I’m… I'm hurt, Arthur. I've liked you for so long, and I just thought… well it doesn't matter what I thought, because you clearly don't want me. So we can drop it and just stay friends. It's fine.”

“No,” Arthur retorted quickly, surprising himself.

The room was silent.

“No?” Merlin repeated.

Arthur looked pained, like someone had just punched him in the gut and it was physically difficult to speak. “I do,” he managed. “I don’t want… I, it's just… Merlin!” Arthur whined his name as if Merlin was the one being difficult and should have understood.

But he did. Or at least he thought he did. It might have been impossible for Arthur to say, but maybe, just maybe, Arthur liked Merlin too.

“Arthur, please, just say it. Say you like me too.” Merlin took a step closer to his friend. They were face to face now, and Arthur's hand was still around Merlin’s wrist. Merlin moved to take Arthur’s hand. “It's okay, just say it.”

“I love you.”

The phrase was hardly a whisper. It could have been lost in the silence of the room. It could have drifted far off and away from them. But Merlin had caught it. Caught those three little syllables that changed everything.

Merlin let himself smile. There would be a lot to talk about and it would be hard. Arthur would fight Merlin along the way, but if he meant it, that was enough. Maybe they would decide they weren't meant to be. Maybe they would decide to go the distance. But whatever came, Merlin was happy to be here in this moment with his best friend whom he loved so much and who loved him back.

And Merlin could wait forever for Arthur to be ready. He could wait forever to be ready himself, because maybe Arthur had a point. He could and would wait as long as it took. All he needed was Arthur’s love. And now. Now he knew he had it.

Merlin took Arthur’s other hand in his and looked deeply into Arthur's eyes. “I love you too.”

When Merlin leaned in and hugged Arthur, his whole body melted into him. Arthur's safe embrace tightened around him, letting the rest of the world slip away. The rain had cleared enough to allow moonlight to drip through the window, lighting the room just enough for Merlin to see Arthur’s face as they pulled away.

Arthur was smiling his proud and pretentious smile. But it was for Merlin and that made it all the better.

“I do,” he clarified. “I really do, Merlin. I want to tell you that and so many other things…  I just -”

“Shhh,” Merlin hushed, placing a finger over Arthur’s lips. “We have all the time in the world.”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah, I know.”

And Merlin knew it was true.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for all the angst. Hope you enjoyed it anyway!


End file.
